When Hebrew Became a Lifeline: Teaching Language, Culture, and Identity After October 7
Adi Rotem is a Hebrew educator and curriculum specialist teaching grades 2–11 in Margolin Hebrew Academy (Memphis, TN). With advanced academic training in history and law, she brings deep textual knowledge and analytical rigor to Hebrew language instruction. Certified in Teaching Hebrew as an Additional Language and trained in iTaLAM, she integrates language acquisition, Jewish heritage, and contemporary Israeli culture to create meaningful, values-driven learning experiences.
A few days after October 7, I received an email from the parent of one of my students. The message itself was simple: a link to a video of the prayer for the soldiers of the Israel Defense Forces, set to music. But it was the words, written by the student, that stayed with me:
I’m sure you’ll like this video because you are Israeli. It’s a good song, very encouraging. I hope Hashem will watch over all our soldiers and bring them home safely so there will be peace.
This was not an assignment. No one had asked her to do this. It was an instinctive act of connection—a student using Hebrew, prayer, and music to reach out to her teacher and to Israel. In that moment, it became clear to me that Hebrew in my classroom had changed. It was no longer only a subject to be mastered; it had become a lifeline.
I teach Hebrew in an Orthodox Jewish day school in the United States. Most of our families are American born, with a small but meaningful number of Israeli families. I teach across a wide span of grades—from early elementary through junior high and high school—and I have taught in several schools over the years. This breadth allows me to see patterns across ages, curricula, and moments in Jewish history. Since October 7, one pattern has become unmistakable: Hebrew has taken on new urgency, new emotional weight, and new possibilities.
Hebrew as More Than a Language
In many day schools, Hebrew is often framed as either a functional skill or a gateway to classical Jewish texts. While both approaches are valuable, they can sometimes overlook a third, equally vital dimension: Hebrew as a living language of peoplehood, emotion, and moral responsibility.
After October 7, my students did not ask for more grammar drills or vocabulary lists. They asked for words to express fear, hope, grief, faith, and solidarity. They needed Hebrew not only to communicate, but to belong.
Our Hebrew classrooms are uniquely positioned to respond to moments of collective crisis because they sit at the intersection of language, culture, values, and identity. This was especially true in an Orthodox school environment, where prayer, text, and communal responsibility are already part of the students’ daily rhythm. The challenge, and the opportunity, was how to respond in a way that was age-appropriate, emotionally responsible, and pedagogically sound.
Adapting the Curriculum Without Abandoning It
In grades one through six, I primarily work with iTaLAM, a digital Hebrew language and Jewish heritage curriculum designed for second-language learners. Even before October 7, iTaLAM emphasized Hebrew as a bridge to Jewish life—integrating language acquisition with holidays, values, and cultural practices. After October 7, the program itself added an additional layer addressing the war in Israel, providing age-appropriate content to help students understand what was happening.
This addition was important, but it was only a starting point. Curriculum alone cannot meet the emotional needs of students in times of crisis. What mattered most was how we, as teachers, mediated that content—how we framed discussions, how we listened, and how we allowed students to respond.
We did not turn Hebrew class into a news broadcast and we did not overwhelm students with graphic details or political debates. Instead, we focused on meaning, connection, and agency. Hebrew became the language through which students could do something—write, pray, sing, and express care.
Students from third grade and up wrote letters to soldiers. Some wrote to soldiers they did not know, others wrote to family members who had been called up for reserve duty. Writing in Hebrew gave these letters a particular power. Even when the language was simple, the intent was profound. Hebrew allowed students to feel that their words were crossing an ocean.
Music as an Emotional and Linguistic Anchor
One of the most powerful tools in my classroom has always been music. After October 7, its role became even more central—and more intentional.
Interestingly, I made a conscious decision not to focus on songs written about the war itself. While such songs can be meaningful, I sensed that many students and teachers were already emotionally saturated. Instead, I chose calmer, gentler songs that offered comfort, faith, and space to breathe.
In middle school, we learned the song Modeh Ani by Omer Adam based on the traditional prayer recited upon waking up. Linguistically, it allowed us to work on masculine and feminine forms. Spiritually, it opened a conversation about gratitude—not only for joyful moments, but also for challenges and disappointments that shape who we become. Students shared reflections that were thoughtful and unexpectedly deep. For some, gratitude meant family. For others, it meant routine, safety, or simply the ability to come to school.
In junior high and high school, we studied Helkat Elokim Ketanah (“A Small Piece of God”) as sung by Yonatan Razel. After analyzing the lyrics, each student wrote a short personal piece describing their own helkat Elokim ketanah, a place or moment where they feel peace and grounding. The responses were deeply moving: a quiet bedroom, a run at sunset, a grandparent’s home, summer camp, a hammock in the backyard. Hebrew became the language through which students articulated vulnerability and hope.
Music, in these moments, did more than support language acquisition. It created emotional safety. It allowed Hebrew to be felt, not just learned.
Spoken Hebrew and Everyday Rituals
Beyond music, small daily routines played a crucial role in sustaining Hebrew as a living language. Consistent opening phrases, predictable classroom expressions, light humor, and age-appropriate slang all helped normalize Hebrew speech without pressure.
Especially after October 7, lowering anxiety was essential. Students needed to know that Hebrew was not another space where they could “fail.” It was a space where they could show up as they were. Even brief moments of spoken Hebrew—greetings, check-ins, shared phrases—reinforced the idea that Hebrew belongs to them.
Developmental Differences Across Grades
Teaching across grades two through eleven has underscored how differently students process collective trauma. Younger students tend to respond through action and creation—drawing, writing cards, offering simple blessings. Older students seek interpretation, context, and meaning. They ask harder questions. They need space for reflection.
In junior high and high school, we studied Psalms—most notably Psalm 23—set to a melody by Yossi Hershkowitz (a soldier killed in battle). Learning both the text and the story behind the melody allowed students to engage deeply with themes of fear, trust, and divine presence. The verse “gam ki elekh begei tzalmavet lo ira ra ki Atah imadi” (even as I walk in the valley of the shadow of death I fear no evil for You are with me) resonated strongly. Students spoke about how these words might give strength to soldiers facing uncertainty.
The content was different across ages, but the goal was the same: to help students feel that Hebrew is a language that can hold complexity.
What We Chose Not to Do
Equally important were the choices about what not to include. We avoided graphic images, constant news updates, and unfiltered social media content. We resisted the urge to respond to every headline. Instead, we prioritized emotional pacing and trust.
Hebrew class did not become a space of fear. It became a space of grounding.
Hebrew as Responsibility
Over time, a broader educational goal emerged. Through Hebrew, students were not only learning language and culture; they were practicing responsibility. Writing letters, studying prayers, sending notes to be placed at the Kotel—these acts helped students understand that they are part of the community of Israel, regardless of geography.
Hebrew gave them a way to care actively, not passively. It transformed concern into action.
Challenges and Ongoing Questions
Teaching Hebrew is not without challenges. Balancing curriculum requirements with emotional responsiveness requires constant judgment. There is no single formula. Each class, each age group, each moment demands attentiveness.
Yet the success has been unmistakable. Students are more engaged. Hebrew feels relevant. It feels human.
Looking Forward
The events of October 7 did not create a new philosophy of Hebrew education, rather, they revealed what has long been true but often overlooked. In moments of crisis, students do not turn to Hebrew because it is required or assessed. They turn to it because it offers access—to meaning, to memory, and to community. October 7 clarified that Hebrew is not only a subject we teach, but a vessel our students rely on when they seek connection, comfort, and purpose.
For Jewish day schools outside of Israel this realization carries significant implications. If Hebrew is taught solely as a language of the past or as a preparatory skill for some future encounter with Israel, it risks becoming distant and abstract. When Hebrew is experienced as a living, responsive language—spoken, sung, written, prayed, and felt—it becomes immediately relevant. It becomes the language through which students process the world as it is, not only as it once was or might someday be.
What emerged in my classroom after October 7 was not only linguistic growth, but emotional and ethical engagement. Students used Hebrew to write letters, sing, pray, and express responsibility for others beyond themselves. They discovered that Hebrew could hold grief without despair, faith without certainty, and hope without naiveté. When Hebrew becomes a lifeline—connecting students to Israel, to one another, and to their own developing identities—it fulfills its deepest educational promise.
Adi Rotem is a Hebrew educator and curriculum specialist teaching grades 2–11 in Margolin Hebrew Academy (Memphis, TN). With advanced academic training in history and law, she brings deep textual knowledge and analytical rigor to Hebrew language instruction. Certified in Teaching Hebrew as an Additional Language and trained in iTaLAM, she integrates language acquisition, Jewish heritage, and contemporary Israeli culture to create meaningful, values-driven learning experiences.
From The Editor: Spring 2026
By the time I entered the elementary school I attended, it had been around for nearly 50 years and was already in decline. Despite the challenges, there were two things which left a lasting impression. The Jewish studies, which occupied the first half of the day, were all conducted in Hebrew, Ivrit beIvrit; some of the teachers were dedicated, die-hard Hebraists who provided me with a very solid foundation. The Hebrew that I learned gave me access to Israeli songs popularized after the Six Day War and to classic Jewish texts—the siddur, Humash, and even to Gemara (yes, Aramaic and Hebrew are closely connected). The language enabled me to act as a translator when my father’s cousin came to visit from Israel, and even enabled me, years later, to attend a regular Israeli yeshiva—in Hebrew.
Aside from the Hebrew language, the school was suffused with Israeli culture.
Hebrew, Achievement, and Educational Leadership: The Process of Building Depth and Durability
בבתי ספר יהודיים בתפוצות, הוראת עברית נעה זה שנים בין שני קטבים: מחד, שפה של זהות, רגש וחיבור לעם ולמדינה; מאידך, מקצוע הנאבק על מקומו מול תחומי דעת הנתפסים כ”ליבתיים” ובעלי יוקרה אקדמית. כמנהל מחלקה לעברית וכמורה בבית ספר יהודי־ציוני, מצאתי את עצמי שואל לא פעם: האם תפקידי הוא להגיב לציפיות משתנות של תלמידים, הורים והקשר פוליטי, או שמא להציב חזון חינוכי ברור—גם במחיר של חיכוך, עומס ואתגר מערכתי. מתוך התבוננות בזהותי כמחנך עברי־ציוני ובחיבור לערכים שעליהם גדלתי, בחרתי לראות בעברית לא רק כלי זהותי אלא תחום דעת מלא: שפה חיה, תרבות עשירה, וספרות ושירה הראויות להילמד ללא התנצלות ובסטנדרטים אקדמיים ברורים.
Successful Shelihim
Jewish Educational Leadership: What do you see as the real value of shelihim?
Bini Krauss: Ivrit beIvrit has long been a central pillar of what we believe in. I know that there are fewer schools doing that today than there were twenty years ago, for sure, but it’s still something that’s very important to us. So the first thing is that if we want to do it properly, it’s probably good to have people who speak Ivrit as their native language. It’s not the only way to do it, but I believe that it is certainly the best way. Many years ago, I taught at the Yeshivah of Flatbush. I was not a native Hebrew speaker, but I think that I was pretty good. Nonetheless, it is much better for students to interact regularly with those for whom Hebrew is native.
From Exposure to Expression: A Schoolwide Model for Increasing Hebrew Production through Joyful Culturally Rich Pedagogy
Despite significant growth across nearly all curricular areas in recent decades, Hebrew language instruction remains a persistent challenge in many Jewish day schools. While schools throughout the diaspora have sought to address this issue by employing shelihim from Israel, this model has raised ongoing concerns, including a lack of continuity due to frequent staff turnover, uneven pedagogical training, differing cultural assumptions about teaching and learning, and questions of quality control. At the Moriah School (Englewood, NJ), these long-standing concerns converged with a broader question that many school communities face: How could it be that a child could spend twelve years in a Jewish day school and still struggle to speak Hebrew?
This urgent question became the catalyst for our recent initiative. The school’s leadership felt that the moment had arrived for a bold, systemic rethink. Student outcomes in many subjects were improving, yet progress in Hebrew remained stagnant.
Teaching Hebrew in a Changing World
אולי נתחיל בשאלה פשוטה מאוד. למה זה חשוב שיהודי בתפוצות ילמד עברית, ואיך זה משפיע על חייו?
אני חושב שהיא באמת שאלה מאוד מורכבת, מכיוון שאחד מהאתגרים הגדולים שיש היום בתפוצות הוא להתמודד עם השאלה “למה עברית?”. אני חושב שלכולם די ברור למה צריך לעסוק בתכנים יהודיים—בחלק מבתי הספר קוראים לזה מקצועות הקודש, בחלק מבתי הספר מגדירים את זה אחרת—אבל לכולם מאוד ברור שבית ספר יהודי צריך שתהיה לו זיקה ליהדות. אך מבחינת העברית יש היום הרבה מאוד סימני שאלה גדולים. ה”אני מאמין” שלי, והוא שלי בלבד, זה שאנחנו מלמדים עברית משתי סיבות. אלף, מתוך זה שהעברית היא חלק מהעולם היהודי. אי אפשר לנתק את העברית מכל ההיסטוריה היהודית. העברית היא הערך הבסיסי ביותר של היהדות.
Hebrew as an Identity Anchor in Diaspora Supplementary Schools: A Response to a Secular-Israeli-Jewish community
הוראת עברית כעוגן זהותי בחינוך המשלים בתפוצות: מענה לצורך הקהילה הישראלית-חילונית
מאת: אליאנה גורדון, נירית פריקורן וטל זילברשטיין פז
תקציר
מאמר זה מציג מודל פרקטי ליצירת תחושת שייכות וטיפוח זהות ישראלית-יהודית רב-שכבתית בקרב ילדים להורים ישראלים החיים בתפוצות, בדגש על קהילתיות ועל יחס ליהדות כתרבות חיה ומתפתחת. המאמר מתמקד באופן שבו בית ספר לעברית משלים יוצא מגבולות המוסד הלימודי וממסגרת השיעור הפרונטלי והופך לעוגן קהילתי, תרבותי, וחיוני עבור הקהילה המקומית כולה.
From Immersion to Deliberation: A Model for Hebrew Identity Education
In recent years, we have found ourselves returning to a question that feels both old and new: If early Zionist thinkers believed that reviving Hebrew could reshape Jewish life, how might they have imagined teaching it in communities far from the land where it would be revived? We are not historians of Zionist pedagogy, and we do not pretend to reconstruct their educational blueprints. But reading figures such as Ze’ev Jabotinsky alongside other early twentieth-century voices forces us to pause and plan intentionally. For them, Hebrew was never meant to function merely as a school subject. It was imagined as atmosphere, as music, as discipline, as shared inheritance. It was something that would seep into consciousness and form character.
Ze’ev Jabotinsky, founder of the Revisionist Zionist movement and the Betar youth organization, is often remembered for his political writings and sharp polemics. Yet woven throughout his speeches and essays is a sustained concern with formation.
Language Defines Identity: A Literary Unit on Multilingualism and Multiculturalism
אירועי השבעה באוקטובר ומה שאירע בעקבותיהם היו שבר שהשפעתו עדיין מהדהדת בכול. לא רק שערעור תחושת הביטחון, האמון, והאמונה שלי עצמי הקשו עליי לעמוד בכיתה וללמד ״כרגיל״, גם תלמידיי בצפון קליפורניה הרחוקה והבטוחה חשו שמשהו נסדק. בימים הראשונים שלאחר הטבח, תלמידים אמרו לי שלראשונה בחייהם הם נחשפים לגילויי אנטישמיות וחוששים לביטחונם האישי, או לעסק בעל הנראות היהודית מאוד של משפחתם. הדהימה אותי העובדה שגם בתיכון היהודי הקטן שבו אני מלמדת (180 תלמידים), תלמידים, אנשי סגל ומשפחותיהם הכירו אישית חטופים, ניצולים, לוחמים וחללים.
בשנת הלימודים 2024-2025, תכננתי ללמד את ההקבצה המתקדמת שלנו (כיתות ט׳-יב) קורס בספרות עברית. היחידה שעמה החלטתי לפתוח את השנה עוסקת ברב-לשוניות ורב-תרבותיות, נושא שמעסיק אותי בחיי האישיים והמקצועיים כאחד.
What Would Jabotinsky Expect from a Hebrew Program Today?
In recent years, we have found ourselves returning to a question that feels both old and new: If early Zionist thinkers believed that reviving Hebrew could reshape Jewish life, how might they have imagined teaching it in communities far from the land where it would be revived? We are not historians of Zionist pedagogy, and we do not pretend to reconstruct their educational blueprints. But reading figures such as Ze’ev Jabotinsky alongside other early twentieth-century voices forces us to pause and plan intentionally. For them, Hebrew was never meant to function merely as a school subject. It was imagined as atmosphere, as music, as discipline, as shared inheritance. It was something that would seep into consciousness and form character.
Ze’ev Jabotinsky, founder of the Revisionist Zionist movement and the Betar youth organization, is often remembered for his political writings and sharp polemics. Yet woven throughout his speeches and essays is a sustained concern with formation.
Resilience in Jewish Education Begins With Hebrew
כמעט שמונה עשורים מהווים בתי הספר “המלך דויד” (King David) ביוהנסבורג רשת של בתי ספר יהודיים, הפועלת תחת חסות ועד החינוך היהודי בדרום אפריקה. הרשת כוללת ארבעה קמפוסים ומציעה חינוך מגיל גן ועד תיכון, במסגרת משותפת לבנים ולבנות, ובה לומדים כיום כ־2700 תלמידים ומלמדים כ־385 מורים. בתי הספר פועלים ברוח אורתודוקסית-מסורתית, תוך פתיחות וקבלת תלמידים ממשפחות יהודיות מגוונות. לצד חינוך כללי ברמה גבוהה, מושם דגש משמעותי על לימודי עברית ולימודי יהדות, כחלק מתפיסה חינוכית הרואה בשפה, במסורת ובקשר למדינת ישראל מרכיבים מרכזיים בזהותם של התלמידים. במסגרת קהילה יהודית מגובשת ובעלת ציפיות ברורות, בתי הספר שואפים לחנך תלמידים בעלי זהות יהודית וציונית, תחושת שייכות, ואחריות כלפי הקהילה והחברה.
כאשר התחלתי להוביל את תחום העברית בבית הספר, הבנתי שהשאלה איננה כמה שעות עברית נלמדות (למרות שאף זו שאלה חשובה), אלא איזה מעמד יש לעברית בתרבות הבית ספרית.
Shinshinim in Schools: An Insider View
The following interview has been edited for clarity and brevity.
Jewish Educational Leadership: Many of our readers are familiar with what a shinshin is, but not all. Can you tell us briefly?
Shira Rafalovitz: Sure. Shinshin is short for shenat sherut, a year of service. It is a year of volunteer work that some Israelis do before they start the army. Most people do their sherut in Israel, volunteering in lots of different places, but some of us choose to go overseas to work in schools or Jewish communities where we think that we can help build bridges between Jewish communities around the world and Israel. I got placed in Detroit, where I did most of my work at Frankel Jewish Academy, the high school. I also did some teaching in a Sunday school with younger kids and with a synagogue.
Preparing Shelihim for Transformative Educational Leadership
Ben Porat Yosef (BPY) is an Early Childhood-8th grade Modern Orthodox yeshiva day school (Paramus, NJ). The school was founded 25 years ago, initially as a Sephardic educational institution, and shortly thereafter shifting to our current model as a dual-curriculum Sephardic and Ashkenazic school, where students who hail from either heritage and tradition are welcomed and celebrated. Moreover, the educational program trains our students in the laws, customs, and culture of the varied Sephardic and Ashkenazic traditions.
The other core element of our mission is to develop in our students a love for Am Yisrael, Eretz Yisrael, and Medinat Yisrael. This is executed in a variety of ways, and two central components are our Hebrew Immersion model and our shelihim program.
Many Diaspora day schools aspire to effectively teach Judaic Studies in Ivrit, for both philosophical and educational reasons. However, there are several significant challenges that have likely contributed to less-than-ideal implementation in the broader field.
Cafe Ivrit: Hebrew Conversation & Connection for Supplemental School Students
In supplemental school settings, there is so much for our students to learn in so little time. With a focus on learning Jewish traditions and preparing for Benei Mitzvah services, students often interact with Hebrew as an ancient language used in prayer and the Torah. It can be challenging for educators to allocate additional preparation and class time for students to experience Hebrew as a modern, spoken language.
Congregation Beth Elohim (Acton, Massachusetts) is an independent synagogue of about 200 families. We strive to foster a warm, welcoming, and inclusive environment that fulfills the ever-changing needs of our Jewish community. Our supplemental Religious School includes students from kindergarten through 10th Grade. We seek to create a learning environment that is warm and engaging, and to create a love of learning and a strong Jewish connection that will stay with our students throughout their lives.
Critical Conceptual Tools with Practical Application for Strengthening Hebrew Language Instruction and Learning
Over the past several years, I’ve found myself in the same conversation again and again with teachers, department chairs, and school leaders who care deeply about Hebrew but feel stuck. Not stuck because of a lack of passion, and not even because of a lack of resources, but because of something harder to name: a lack of shared clarity.
The questions come in different forms: What is the role of Hebrew in Jewish day schools today? Why teach Hebrew? Why learn Hebrew? What is Hebrew meant to accomplish? What should a graduate of a Jewish day school know and be able to do in Hebrew? Who is an effective Hebrew educator? What does effective Hebrew language teaching and learning actually look like?
At first, these questions may sound abstract. However, strong frameworks can help shape very real decisions: how time is used, how teaching is approached, which curricula are chosen, and how educators are supported.
Hebrew 2.0- A Language that Shapes Reality: Hebrew as a Catalyst for Developing Thoughtful, Engaged an Influential Youth
The transformations of the 21st century bring with them fundamental changes in the way we understand second language acquisition processes. Social, cultural, and economic shifts are creating a reality in which intercultural and multilingual interactions are becoming central to our daily lives. In this reality, researchers and educators who teach languages are called upon to be attentive and open to change, and to adapt instruction to evolving contexts, to prepare learners to navigate a complex and unpredictable world. Accordingly, there is a growing need to adopt an updated perspective on second language acquisition, one that is suited to a dynamic reality and reflects the broad cultural and identity-related contexts within which language learning takes place.
Many education systems are now aware of the need for reforms and the renewal of content and teaching methods, so that these may incorporate, as an inherent part of the learning process, the new skills that students require in the 21st century: communication skills, creativity, critical thinking, problem solving, and collaboration.
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